


fatal accomplice

by orphan_account



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Vampire Hunter D (Anime & Manga), Vampire Hunter D Bloodlust, 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Crossover, M/M, Multi, POV Alternating, Politics, Polyamory, Racism In the Context of Vampires, Vampire Ferdinand von Aegir, Vampire Hubert von Vestra, Vivid War Imagery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-26 23:37:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21109052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In the darkest hour of the war, Hubert and Ferdinand are reacquainted with an old friend.





	fatal accomplice

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to my insane love of gothic husbands and vampire cowboys. if you’re reading this, thank you. I’m setting out to write this for myself, but if you end up enjoying it, all the better.
> 
> For fe3h fans who happen to read this who are like, “what in the name of f*ck is Vampire Hunter D,” it’s a series about a vampire cowboy named D who is half-vampire, half-human. That’s where the word Dhampyr comes in. I will be using this word often as it will be a huge part of the overarching plot and the meaning of the war propelling the characters forward (especially Hubert, Ferdinand and D). The futuristic gothic setting will also be drawn from Vampire Hunter D Bloodlust at large. (Overall I highly recommend the movie. Do yourself a favour this holiday season and watch it).
> 
> Thank you!

In the early morning, the fields of death haunt Ferdinand’s dreams. The howls of impaled priests, nearly dead, force him awake. He stares outside his and Hubert’s open bedroom windows, the emptiness of the desert’s barren landscape quieting his heart.

Shuttered images of spikes, twisting limbs and strangled mouths stain the dry glass of the window panes. A cruel mirage.

Slamming the window shut, Ferdinand trembles with a well-worn sigh as Hubert sits up in bed.

“Come back to me, Ferdinand,” he says, soft in the slanting darkness. Shadows are kind to Hubert’s angular, forbidding features. They accentuate his inhuman beauty, something Ferdinand now treasures. He’s aware, all over again, of how he fell for Hubert backwards: he fell for his mind, his heart and then, deeply and irrevocably, his warmth in bed.

But now he turns back to the bleak mirage of another vast oasis mocking him from their window, his hands shaking. 

“I want to _ sleep _again, Hubert. You cursed me to dream of your conquered dead.”

_ The priests did not die in vain,_ he reminds himself, for they acted in aid of Hubert’s father, trusted servant of the vampire king, himself aiding and abetting a merciless genocide against all dhampyr in an effort to purify their race.

They did not die in vain. Yet Ferdinand’s stomach lurches with the violent pang of a splintered stake thrust through his ribcage. 

He did not beseech the Goddess on behalf of this debilitating empathy. 

She burdened him with a heavy heart nonetheless. 

A ragged sigh rips through him as the warmth of Hubert’s hands sinks through his hair. He tilts his head back, permitting Hubert to pull him against his chest and breathe down Ferdinand’s open mouth, snaking his left hand through Ferdinand’s hair whilst his right arm guides Ferdinand down onto his lap.

Sex helps them forget about the horror of their life for a while. 

Evidently, Hubert thinks better of it because he turns Ferdinand’s head with the palm of his hand, pressing Ferdinand’s left cheek against his chest and holding him there, drawing circles against Ferdinand’s stomach with an absent right hand.

_ It’s so terribly futile, Hubert. This war. _

_ “Running after your father means you’re running after yourself.” _

_ Who said that? _

-

The desert’s stillness is unbearable; how Ferdinand longs for the Empire.

They’re on the road now, Ferdinand astride their beloved horse whom they’ve kept nameless in honour of a treasured memory. He’s more than that, this memory, but they haven’t met him in years, never mind writing. As far as Ferdinand knows, him and Hubert are the only lost souls who bother writing letters anymore. Ferdinand keeps Hubert’s letters in a bundle tied to his chest with package string, the kind you never find now. No need to wrap data.

“That shadow,” Hubert says, startling Ferdinand from his cynical reverie, his warm, gloved hand clutching Ferdinand’s in a weathered grip. “Is it nearing us? Or drifting…”

Even from a remarkable distance, Ferdinand would know that shape anywhere. _ That peculiar, long-brimmed hat, the ridiculously wide shoulders, the Godless black horse hellbent on charging past death, cheating the Reaper out of a bargain. _

Smiling, Ferdinand shouts, “About time you came back to us, old friend!”

_ D_.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project (including the LLF Comment Builder), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:  
Short comments  
Long comments  
Questions  
“<3” as extra kudos  
Reader-reader interaction  
This author replies to comments.


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